


Trivial Matters

by anonymousdani



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Cliche, F/M, Footsies, I need to be stopped, Mileven, i can't believe i've done this plot a second time, studying fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousdani/pseuds/anonymousdani
Summary: El didn't expect to find herself playing footsie with a raven-haired stranger in the library during study hall.Oneshot.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	Trivial Matters

All El wanted was a quiet place to study for her history exam. It isn’t supposed to be that difficult a feat.

In all fairness she had already studied a lot, but this was going to be the first exam of the school year. The history teacher, Mr. Hackenschmidt, is extra well-known for being completely ruthless regarding the essay questions, and El was definitely not going to fall victim to it.

Usually, she’d prefer to sit alone to help fuel her concentration, but her fellow peers seemingly had the same idea. Faces. So many faces. Bodies in chairs, books sprawled about.

Undoubtedly, everyone is motivated by the start of a new school year. By the way human capacity for motivation usually goes, El would have the cramped library back to herself in no time. Still, this doesn’t help the need of a surface to study on at the moment. Most of the tables were currently taken by generic high school cliques and large groups of friends. Flashcards, highlighters, enough pens to last a lifetime.

Some of the faces begin to look familiar. Scanning the room, El weighs her options.

She could join Nina, a pretty girl who’d spoken to El a handful of times, and her posse. Nina seemed friendly enough, and no doubt would allow her to sit. But the table looked crowded, and El knew she’d be forced into polite conversation and introductions that would sway her away from her books. She did not need distractions.

After doing a round, she realized the least occupied table was taken by a stranger with unkempt hair and his nose buried in an X-Men comic book. The nerve of this guy coming to a library during study hours to read some dumb comic.Why couldn’t he just check out the book to read at home?

She did a quick scan around the room one last time. Yep. Two options. The latter seemed slightly more appealing of an option, though not by much.

Having no choice - well, very limited - El carried her textbooks over to the raven-haired jerk and carefully laid out her belongings in the seat across from him.

Ten minutes into taking notes on the Cold War, El could feel the stranger’s foot scrape against her flats as he shifted his posture. It was most likely just an accident, but she immediately stilled at the contact. If he noticed the physical contact, he certainly made no inclination as he flipped the page casually. 

Inconspicuously, she propped her textbook up, effectively stealing another discreet glance at the boy, before vowing to stop getting distracted by trivial matters.

Trying to get back to work, she straightened her posture and picked her pencil back up.

Two sentences. She got two sentences down before that slight tinge of pain, that’s becoming more familiar by the minute, greets her again.

Looking up again, she sees the male, nonchalantly bobbing his head to some lyrics he’s probably remembering while reading. No apologetic glance in her direction, no sorry, not even an acknowledgment!

Maybe she imagined it.

This time she definitely felt it. His foot definitely hit hers, and it wasn’t a light scrape either.

She looks under the table to see him swinging his legs back and forth, as if this was a coffee shop and he was a four year old who is retaliating because he wanted a milkshake instead of a latte. She almost scoffs.

No, no. She has way too much class for that. Taking a deep breath, she places her feet behind the legs of the chair, seeking protection from this very rude stranger’s attacks. It works for almost a full four minutes.

Yet somehow, somehow, those sneakers still come in contact with her bare legs. She picked a bad day to wear a skirt.

Finally, El loses her resolve. In an act of retaliation she reciprocates the feet kicking action, not even taking her eyes off the textbook.

She hears his breath hitch in surprise.

She’s deluded herself into thinking he’s going to apologize when he kicks her back twice as hard. She blinks slowly before her eyes narrowed into slits. Unbelievable.

The kick was supposed to be a revenge, a polite, “Hey, you’re bothering me. Would you mind stopping that?” It was certainly not an initiation for war.

Before she’s even rationalized her actions, her leg is mid-swing. The blow is even harder than last time. The satisfying contact with the fabric of his jeans was almost addicting.

Finally, he lowers his comic book enough to give her a mysterious glower. She’s met with dark eyes and a raised eyebrow. She stares him down. At least she can say that he acknowledged her existence now. Though she’s intimidated, she is nothing if not a fighter.

The fight continues, their bottom limbs attacking each other ruthlessly while keeping a solemn composure above the waist. This is all very subtle, of course. Defending her honor is one thing - getting kicked out of the library is something entirely out of the question. She’s still in need of dire studying after all, no matter how preoccupied she currently is.

While contemplating her life choices, her foot accidentally ends up injuring a particularly important male anatomy. The painful grunt he emitted in shock and agony was enough to sustain her concern and instead drive her over the edge in laughter.

She tried. She tried so hard to keep the giggles to herself, but covering it up only makes the chortles that much more noticeable. Still, it’s too difficult to stop. Coughing and a little embarrassed by her outburst - some people are now looking in her direction curiously - she tries to regain her composure and oh, maybe finish her history notes.

She’s completely positive he’s livid and glaring at her so she waits a few minutes, actually getting some work done as she hides behind her book, before looking up at him. 

Instead of anger, he lowers his comic enough to smile at her. And it’s a strange instant. Even though they haven’t formally exchanged a single work, fondness creeps in. Maybe it’s because she’s just damaged his vital organ that is his future chance to have kids, and here he is looking at her with this kind of goofy grin across his face like he genuinely enjoys her company.

She manages a small, cautious smile of her own, and his boyish grin widens.

And she feels like such a high school cliche, where cute boys run the school and she’ll forget what dicks they are in that one second when they smile at her and she feels herself crashing into them like the high tides take over the sand. A moment of bad judgement, a romanticized event. That’s just exactly what this is.

Attempting to fix her chair - which may or may not have been disrupted in stance due to her tomfoolery - she gives him one last smile before opening her book again. 

But then he hooks her leg securely with his own and she sees him shyly pretending to read his comic, even though she can feel his gaze on her.

Well, now that’s something entirely different.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for doing such a similar plot again... But I recently started a new job and ran into this guy I was friends with in elementary school. We used to play footsie all the time in class and so I was thinking about it the other day and thought it could make for an interesting oneshot plot. Let me know what you think of this one. :))


End file.
